


Four Lies Sandor Clegane Told Sansa Stark, And One Truth

by irismoon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:55:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irismoon/pseuds/irismoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>title says it all :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Lies Sandor Clegane Told Sansa Stark, And One Truth

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the first things I ever wrote, and I was still not comfortable posting stuff. Was a prompt from one of the old comment fic memes. I believe from The Moonmoth maybe. 
> 
> Oh well, hope i did the prompt justice.
> 
> Disclaimer: It all belongs to GRRM
> 
> Warnings: none that I can think of
> 
> Spoilers: Thru all the books and both seasons of the show.

SANDOR: 

 

Sandor Clegane stood behind King Joffrey as they waited in the viewing box. It was the boy kings nameday, and a small tournament had been assembled. Sandor rolled his eyes at the thought of the worthless Knights and green boys that would be participating in the event. A piss-poor bunch of idiots, the lot of them. 

Ser Meryn arrived escorting Lady Sansa. "Finally, my lady looks decent today." Joffrey said leering at her. "Dog! Doesn't Lady Sansa look pretty today for once." he laughed. 

Sandor turned his head slightly to acknowledge the girl. "Aye" he rasped shortly. 

Calling the girl 'pretty' was a lie. She wore a silk gown that was a pale pink color. Her fiery hair was done up in one of those overly complicated southern styles that he hated. The dark circles had finally begun to fade under her eyes, and her busted lip had healed. 

She was more beautiful than words could describe. He supposed if he was a poet or a bard he would know some fancy words to call her. 

He was simply a dog. 

 

****** 

He saw the maid rush out of the girls room. Another girl raced after her with what looked like a dagger in her hand. As he approached her doorway he heard her crying. 

Looking in he saw the little bird standing there. There was blood on her hands and gown, blood on her bed. 

He rushed in the room and grabbed her arm. "What happened, who hurt you?" She continued to cry and shook her head. "Tell me who hurt you and I'll kill them." He snarled taking her chin and forcing her to look at him. 

She lowered her eyes. "Now I can have children for the King." she gasped out between sobs. 

He dropped her arm and stepped away. It was her womans blood. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his briefly before she looked away embarrassed. She brought her hands to her face as if to wipe at her tears, but stopped and stared at the blood on her hands. 

He took her arm again and led her over to the bed. "Sit girl." he rumbled, grabbing a cloth from her night table and wetting it from a nearby water basin. Kneeling before her, he gently wiped the blood from her hands. Then he pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her for her eyes. She took it and grasped at his arm. 

"Please help me." She whispered. 

"I can't help you girl." he said standing. He walked a few steps away sighing. 

It was a lie. He could easily help the girl get away. Throw her on the back of Stranger and take her back to her kin. He would kill anyone who tried to stop him. 

She didn't belong to him. She was not his to save. 

She had begun to cry again. Suddenly her handmaiden rushed back in the room, stopping short when she saw him standing there. 

 

****** 

 

He dug the grave stopping every few minutes to chance a glance at the girl sitting against the tree watching him. He found that he missed her chirping. Anything would be better than the blank stares. Her beautiful blue eyes empty and unfeeling. 

She had arrived at the Quiet Isle running from something or someone. As soon as he made his presence known to her, she barely left his side. She was as silent as the graves he dug. He ached to know who had done this to her. Longed to run his sword thru the gut of her enemies. 

The wind began to pick up, winter was coming soon, and it chilled him to his bones. The damn cold made his bad leg ache and his limp worse. He felt every one of his nine and twenty years. 

A flash of red caught his attention. Her hair was loose and it floated softly in the breeze. It reminded him of the flickering flames of a warm hearth fire and he longed to reach out and touch it. He saw her bring her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs, and shiver in the cold. 

Setting the shovel down, he quickly took his cloak off and draped it around her shoulders. She reached up and grasped his hands in hers and gazed up at him. "Won't you be cold" she whispered. It was the first words he had heard her speak since she arrived. 

He tried to smile at her, but felt the ruined side of his mouth twitch. He turned away hoping she wouldn't see. "No Little Bird, I'm not cold at all." he lied. 

He picked up the shovel and returned to his digging. 

 

****** 

 

Even though he did not believe in any of the Gods, Sandor couldn't deny the Godswood at Winterfell felt like a holy place. Sansa told him that her father always went there when he was troubled, and Sandor found himself there often. Perhaps the quiet calm of the place reminded him of the Quiet Isle. And with all the activity and rebuilding of the castle, quiet and calm was hard to find. 

He glanced up as he heard her approach. She looked at him and smiled warmly. "I have been looking for you. I have news." 

Growling he turned away. "I've already heard your news. Its all anyone can talk about. You are going to marry again." 

"Yes." her voice was quiet. "I have asked Jon if I could marry again." He didn't respond to her. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence she continued. "Do you also know who I wish to marry?" 

"I don't care." He snapped. "Why should it matter to me?" 

He stormed away as soon as he spoke the lie. He thought back to when he had heard about her marriage to the Imp. Even now the thought of her and Tyrion Lannister made his chest hurt, the same way it did the first time he heard the news. When Polliver had told him, he kept drinking more wine to try and numb the pain. He drank too much too fast and almost got himself killed in the fight that followed. He didn't know if he could bare to actually witness her marry again. 

Suddenly her soft hand was on his arm, pulling him to face her. She stood up on her toes and kissed him softly on the lips. "You should care." she whispered. "Because I wish to marry you." 

 

****** 

 

SANSA 

 

She watched as her husband held the baby for the first time. He carefully sat down on the bed next to her, and cradled the tiny girl in his arms. 

"I am so very sorry." She whispered. 

He looked up at her confused. "Sorry for what?" 

"That the baby is not a boy." she mumbled. 

Sandor roared with laughter. "Who wants a boy, boys are nothing but trouble. I have this precious little girl here, and that makes me the happiest man in all the seven kingdoms." 

Sansa looked at him and frowned. He had to be lying. She had been raised her whole life knowing her worth as a woman, depended on her ability to produce her husband an heir. Husbands wanted sons first to carry on their line, and daughters second. If she would have bore Joffrey a daughter first, he would have probably had her executed. 

Silently she watched him with the baby. After a few minutes he looked at her again and smiled. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the light. Suddenly she laughed as she realized something. 

She thought back to all the years she had known him. All the different ways she had seen his eyes. Full of hate and rage back in Kings Landing. Grey and peacefully calm on the Quiet Isle. Then dark with desire for her when they made love here at Winterfell. 

This sparkle she saw was happiness. This was the Hound, and he was happy. 

She smiled and snuggled up to him. Of course he was telling her the truth, she scolded herself. He once told her that a hound would never lie to her.


End file.
